


Oh No, There's Only One Bed

by QuickSilverFox3



Series: Peapod McHanzo Week [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, M/M, Peapod McHanzo Week, peapodmchanzoweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 05:11:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13287708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickSilverFox3/pseuds/QuickSilverFox3
Summary: It's the literal zombie apocalypse and there is only one bed in this safe house, whatever are they going to do?





	Oh No, There's Only One Bed

**Author's Note:**

> Day 01 of Peapod McHanzo week run by aughtpunk and wyntera over on tumblr!  
> Please let me know what you think

"There is only one bed."  
It was a combination of factors that pulled McCree's gaze from the window, staring out into the shifting mass of the dead stumbling around below. Not least in those was the note of sheer panic in Hanzo's voice, combined with a sense of begrudged acceptance.   
The reanimation of the dead had hit them both in different ways before they were forced together in a small storage supply cupboard to wait out a passing hoard. 

Any thoughts passing through his head- would there be food in the cupboards downstairs? Would the dead come into the house? - were immediately wiped from his mind at the sight of the other man.  
His hair was hanging loose around his shoulders, hair ribbon loosely wrapped around one wrist as his tattoo peeked tantalisingly from the collar of the oversized tshirt he'd pulled on. One of his prosthetic feet tapped nervously against the wooden floor, the fingers of the hand not resting on the door frame drumming against the sheath strapped to one muscular thigh.

"W-what?" Jesse managed to stammer out, gaze finally managing to meet Hanzo's, his cheeks flushing a bright red that would hopefully be hidden through his beard and the setting sun just over his shoulder.  
"This house has only one bed. The others are... unusable." The disgust in Hanzo's voice at the word always brought a smile to Jesse's face, the man always managed to seem so prim and proper even during the actual apocalypse.   
"I don't mind keeping watch darlin'" Jesse said, grin slipping across his face at the high blush that decorated Hanzo's cheeks at the petname.  
"We both need to sleep, and this place is as secure as we're likely to find for a while," Hanzo countered, reluctance lengthening the words, fingers speeding up their incessant tapping.

"If you're wanting me to go to bed with you darlin', you could at least have bought me dinner first," Jesse teased, heart picking up speed in his chest. It wasn't like they hadn't slept in close quarters before but that had been through dire need, frost almost feeling to creep up Jesse's legs as they both shivered in their sleeping bags. But this was somehow different.  
"I found food the last time. I believe you owe me dinner McCree," Hanzo fired back with a forced scowl, eyes rolling in playful irritation.  
"Jesse, sugar cheeks, ma name is Jesse."  
There was that blush again, back in full force spilling across his cheeks.  
Jesse could almost see the gears ticking in Hanzo's brain, the other man weighing up his options as a potentially risky sentence danced on the tip of his tongue.  
"Join me in bed Jesse," Hanzo purred, eyes narrowed and fingers still on the knife, "unless you'd rather stay up here all night."

Jesse nearly tripped over his own bootlaces in his hurry to run after the other man.

-

The bed was indeed small, a single with duvets already piled atop it in a haphazard pile that contained one archer, prosthetic feet sticking out from one end.  
"Do you reckon you have enough blankets there darling?" McCree asked, barely biting back laughter as he halted in the doorframe, gun hitting his hip painfully.  
Whatever verbal retort Hanzo made was sufficiently muffled by the blankets, but the middle finger emerging from within the depths was perfectly clear.  
"Front door's locked and barred as are all the windows, surreptitiously of course."  
Blackwatch training as it turned out had been good for several reasons when the world went to shit, including the guns ever present on his hips. Hanzo's bow was resting at the foot of the bed, arrows propped up next to it.

Jesse flopped down onto the bed, ignoring the quiet hiss emanating from somewhere above his head as he toed his boots off, toes poking through several holes in the ragged socks.  
"Gonna have to find myself some new socks hun," he called, a momentary flash of Hanzo in the get up of a traditional southern housewife passing through his minds eye. It would suit him, apron strings framing his broad shoulders, but not the life he would ever be happy leading.   
"I know. There's some in my bag McCree," came the slightly less muffled response as Hanzo raised himself up slightly, coaxing a startled laugh out of McCree.   
"Thanks Hanzo."  
His blush was back in full force now, making Jesse grateful that Hanzo was still cocooned underneath the blankets.   
"Mind if I?" Jesse gestured futility to the bag resting next to the bow, snagging it with the barrel of his gun following Hanzo's grunt of agreement.

It always felt vaguely sacrilegious, rummaging through Hanzo's bag. The feeling that he was going to be caught by some higher power never fully abated, regardless of how many times it had occurred since their meeting, either through need or permission. For all his organisation when it came to setting up safe houses to sleep in during the night, Hanzo's bag was a mess. The other man always insisted he knew where everything was, and could demonstrate this ability when questioned, however there was no visible organisation that Jesse could spot save one thing.  
A small zipped pouch sewn into the back of the bag was firmly off limits. Jesse had never seen inside it, or seen Hanzo take anything out of it, and yet all the same it was the first thing he checked in the morning, and then again at night.  
"Where they at, my sweet peach tea?"

Stifled laughter shook the bed, before Hanzo managed to croak out a weak "side pocket."  
The socks were soft and clean, far nicer than anything Jesse had previously owned, even when he was working with Blackwatch. Back then all his paycheck went on booze and upgrades to Peacemaker. Ratty socks were shoved back into Jesse's bag, resting down the side of the bed as one gun was gently slid under the pillow, joining the knife Hanzo had previously tucked there.   
"You joining me cowboy?"

Hanzo had wriggled enough so that his face had emerged, flushed a soft pink as he watched Jesse intently.   
"You warm enough under there honey pie?" Jesse teased, remembering bitter complaints about the heat that had occurred on the previous day.  
"I will manage," Hanzo stated, wriggling closer to the wall to allow Jesse to stretch out, his feet now completely covered by the new socks still protruding from the end of the bed.  
"Didn't think you were fond of the heat dumpling," Jesse asked, fingers brushing the cold metal of his gun as he rolled over, nose to nose with Hanzo.  
"You were complaining about it yesterday."

The words were so quiet, Jesse almost missed them amidst the ever present shuffling feet and groans from outside, and the creaks of the house settling. Warmth flooded through his chest, and cheeks set aflame at the soft words.  
"Thank you Hanzo."  
Hanzo smiled, a rare sight, and pulled Jesse into the bed, layering the pile of blankets on top of them both carefully.

It may be the apocalypse, but here, in a too small bed covered by every blanket in the house and Hanzo's sleeping form next to him, Jesse McCree had never been happier.


End file.
